


No Remorse

by SaintSaens



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, I Don't Even Know, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Not Beta Read, Social Services, Sorry Not Sorry, What Have I Done, definitely not complete, not complete
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-12 00:07:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13535460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintSaens/pseuds/SaintSaens
Summary: Hopper had never been very lucky.Even less so on such a Monday, with his somewhat daughter telling him Eggos would have been needed today of all day.And with a situation he was not ready to deal with. At all.-----ps: this work is a spur of the moment. I do not even know if I am ever going to write something more. Be aware of that before you dive in!pps: the title is absolutely for me. Because I have No Remorse leaving this like that. Hate me. I don't care (I actually do).





	No Remorse

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Sooo this has been on my mind for the past couple of weeks. Couldn't leave well enough alone, so I decided to share my misery with you lot. It's the only chapter written so far... expect it not to be completed ever ever. Ever. Because I'm like that.
> 
> 2) this deals with child abuse/domestic violence and the like, from afar but still. Please be careful when reading this. It's not graphic, but it implies a lot. So stay safe lovelies. 
> 
> 3) I'm not american, so I have no idea how social / child services work there ? Even less in the 80's, but bear with me, I'm trying to make it realistic-ish (without any research would you look at that ?!)
> 
> (because I need, really need, a somewhat good representation of social services? I know most of the time we hear about it it's shitty, and most of the time it is, but I'm currently working with social workers, and man, the things I saw with them. And it's shitty situations, and they are trying to make do with the very few things they are given (which is almost nothing), and most of the times it does not really help, but sometimes it does? And I've been going through a couple of pretty hard cases in the last few days, and I've been reading kid's testimonies and... and I just need to see a kid being helped through by people trying to do the best they can while being prevented to do so by the administration/finances etc? Sorry if you feel like it's disrespectful or some such. It's not my point. I just need to believe that social services can help. )
> 
> 4) I'm not a native english-speaker, could you guess ? So any mistakes, sorry in advance! Will try to correct them in the long run maybe ? 
> 
>  
> 
> Jesus the rant.

The shitshow started, as it is wont to do for Hopper, on a Monday morning.

 

A fucking Monday morning.

 

He had woken up, bright and early, at the sight of Jane in his face, waiting with her big eyes. Way to close to comfort.

 

It already looked like that day would be a pain.

 

"I'm hungry."

 

"Uuuuurgh, kid-"

 

"I'm hungry."

 

She was looking at him, with the look that meant "I will get what I want, even if I have to take it out of your cold dead hands". _That_ look. The one for Eggos.

 

"Uuuuuuuuuurgh" Hopper face-palmed.

 

(Nobody ever said Hopper was eloquent. Not at ass crack of dawn anyway.)

 

"I want Eggos."

 

He looked at her through his fingers. "Okay, kid. Okay. Let's just - _uuuurgh_. Let's just go to the kitchen and see what we can dig up, alright?" He yawned, as he rose from the couch.

 

Jane was already at the table. "Eggos." She stated. Like it was a truth universally acknowledged that Eggos were THE breakfast.

 

"No no, kid-" She was sending him the look again "No, just- C'mon kid, help me here." He sighed.

 

She was still sending him the look.

 

"You can't have Eggos today, even if you were allowed to." He said, calmly "You _know_ that."

 

She frowned.

 

"You _knew_ that yesterday evening, when you decided to have your last couple of Eggos for dessert." He explained.

 

"Wasn't there more?" She was looking around from her spot by the table, trying to see anything that could look like a box of Eggos. She even went on tip-toe, to get a better look. God, this kid would be the death of him.

 

"No there wasn't." He rubbed at this jaw. God dammit did he wanted to sleep.

 

"Oh." Jane was disappointed. "It's sad. You will need them today."

 

"Uh?" He looked at her, perplexed. "What was that?"

 

"You will need Eggos. For today." She was sending him the most pitiful look he had ever seen her do.

 

"Uh. "

He did not know what to do with that. So Hopper shrugged, and went straight to the coffee pot, ruffling her hair on the way. The British, in emergency situations, had their tea; Hopper, as a good old American, had his coffee.

 

"If you say so kiddo."

 

\----

 

And, as Hopper had his hear pressed to the phone of his office, he realized deeply that it was indeed a day for Eggos.

 

At the other end of the line, a social worker. A social worker from California, calling from some office in fucking California.

 

Fucking Monday morning.

 

"Hello ? Are you still there?"

 

Hopper shook himself.

 

"Yeah, yeah sorry, it's just - what were you saying again?"

 

The heavy and long, sooo long, sight at the end of the line made him realize that, yeah, there were two of them on this shit boat now. And he was definitely not the worse one of.

 

"You're lucky you are in _fucking_ Indiana right now, Chief Hopper." Hissed the woman. "Or I would be _kicking_ you over the head with my phone for what you just implied."

 

Hopper grimaced. Good god, did he fall on the most charming one, or was it just his damn luck?

 

"I'm - no, I have no excuse. It's just - you know - it's not something we have a lot of here-"

 

"Lucky you." Jesus. She was cold-blooded that one.

 

"- so I'm a bit surprised...But please, go on. I'm listening." He took up his pencil, trying to give himself something to do so that he wouldn't fall asleep. His coffee cup was empty. His third of the day. Taunting him from the edge of his desk.

 

"I sure hope for your sake that you are because I would rather not waste my time repeating myself, is that clear ?" she threatened. He winced, for good measure."I was telling you about a family, from San Diego, California. That apparently moved to  Indiana, 4 months ago now ?"

 

Oh.

 

That.

 

"Oh."

 

"Yes, oh." She waited. She sighed. Christ. "Ring any bells?"

 

"That's ringing my bells alright" He growled, looking menacingly at his cup.

 

Fucking _Californian_ kids.

 

Fucking Billy Hargrove, who almost did Steve Harrington in and went after the Sinclair kid. Whom Hopper had caught a few times already for speeding and drinking. But whom he could not take in for assault, because, hey that would mean explaining why all those kids where at the Byers', and why none of their parents knew where they were, and why they were armed, or why they took the fuckin' kid's camaro...and yeah, no.

 

But there was also fucking Maxine Mayfield who almost fought hands on with Jane when they first properly met each other, because, apparently, Jealousy was a thing for Jane, and Max was not the kind of kid to have any of it, not when it concerned her friends.

 

Fucking best pals now these two.

 

So yeah, _Californian kids_ is ringing a lot of bells right now for Hopper. A fuckin' symphony in his tired brain.

 

"The name ?"

 

"Sorry, what ?" He startled. 

 

"I asked the name of the family."

 

He frowned, lounging back in his chair.

 

"Why can't you just tell me the names you're looking for uh? Wouldn't it be quicker?"

 

"Oh, names ? As in plurals? As in multiple families moved in from California ? Or as in one recomposed family moved in from California?" She was positively gloating. Hopper was sure of it, damn it.

 

Shit.

 

"So ? Doesn't change anything. Give me the name or names or whatever and I'll tell you if we have any of that here. Quicker, and more painless for everyone involved." He turned around in his chair, looking at the drawn down blinds. Better the blinds than the fuckin' excuse of a view he had on the back-wall of the next house. And the dogs pissing on it.

 

"See, _Chief_ , that's not exactly how it works. Because I can't tell you anything, unless I know, for a fact, that you and I are talking about the same persons there. You know, confidentiality and all ? Just in case."

 

"And me going the other way around and telling you the names of _the_ _persons_ in my town, coming from California, wouldn't be an issue of confidentiality ?" He was smiling wryly at the face of confidentiality on that one. He learned a lot about confidentiality in the last couple of years.

 

"No." Hopper almost stopped on his turn back to face his desk, surprised at her blank tone.

"Unless, they are involved in a case of domestic violence and child abuse, _in which case_ you might want to be careful who you give their names to, and who is listening in on your conversations." A pause. "But, you know, that's just the way we do things here in Cali. Maybe you're not that up to date with procedures in the middle of Indiana."

 

That was a cold shower Hopper really did not need.

 

"Shit." He exhaled.

 

"Shit indeed, Chief Hopper."

 

Hopper could not say anything. He - was it possible they were looking for the same family that came here ? But - Hopper had met the Hargrove-Mayfield household. He had actually come up to them,personally, to introduce himself, on the first week they moved in. They looked just like every other family...oh - but didn't that sound like the kind of things you would expect to hear when talking about those kind of shit?

 

There was an acrid taste in Hopper's mouth, and it was not from the cold coffee.

 

What had he seen ? A middle-aged couple. A clean-cut husband, military background. A reserved, silent, wife. A  little girl, somewhat suspicious of him and his uniform, but full of energy. Oh, he had not seen Billy that day, had he? But he remembers talking about the camaro with the dad.

 

Could he have been had like that ?

 

Sure, it had been when he and El were almost at each others throat every day for jack shit but still. He should have seen something was wrong. Shit. He grew up in a shitty family. He should have noticed.

 

"Now, the names of the family ? Please." The social worker sighed, mellowed out by his silence.

 

"Listen,we've been looking for them for _months_ now. They just up and went one day, without notice or anything. It's not something we like here, you feel me? Not with that kind of things, and not with the last news we got of them..."

 

"It's - uh - it's Hargrove. The name. And Mayfield." His voice cracked. Shit. Not Max. "Hargrove-Mayfield." Shit.

 

Silence. Then a sight. A freed sight.

 

"Okay. Okay okay, good. That's - _woah_. That's good. Well, you know, considering. But - oh god thanks." The relief in her voice was palpable. Hopper was pretty sure she had not noticed she had thanked him.

 

She talked away from the phone then, but Hopper could catch a few words here and there, between furious bits of typing "They are ... Yeah. Found them...Hawkins...gonna ask now."

 

"Okay. So, Chief Hopper, I need you to answer a few questions for me now. I will need you to be as precise as possible, and if you cannot answer them I will need you to look for answers, while staying clear of the family as much as possible. Is that something that can be done?"

 

"Yeah, sure - uh but, listen I..."

 

Should he tell them that Max was a friend of his - well, daughter, in place of a better word? Maybe he shouldn't be the one they should talk to considering... His ears were ringing. Jesus _fucking_ Christ.

 

" Okay, here is what's going to happen. I will ask you questions. You answer them as precisely as you can. Once we are done here, on my hand, I will contact the judge in charge of their case, so that they can pass the info and the case we have on to a judge on your side, who will then call in the social services from there. They will contact you themselves then. In between, every info you catch needs to be sent to us. We will forward it to the proper person later on. We are trying to get as good a bird view of them as we can, from when they left California to now, is that understood?"

 

"Yes, yes, I know how it works, been there done that, but just-" he was mumbling now, lacking saliva, with his pen and paper, crushing them in his fist. He did not know where to look, what to do. Would he even be able to answer their questions ? What if he couldn't ? Because he did not know a lot about them. Apart from what he heard from Max, and what he saw with his own eyes but...

 

"First question : Is William Hargrove, also known as Billy Hargrove, _alive_?"

 

What

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so thanks for sticking 'till the end. 
> 
> If someone wants to complete it, or go away with this, please do. Take it, shred it, use it! It would be my pleasure to read what you can come up with :)
> 
> I am sorry to leave it at that (yep, not even a dot at the end of the text! yep yep yep yep). But it was the idea I had since the beginning soooo. Yeah :) there you go!
> 
> Bless you all for reading!


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